


from my heart and from my hand

by reversustenebris



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: All platonic don't be weird :), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Magic AU, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversustenebris/pseuds/reversustenebris
Summary: Wilbur leans forward conspiratorially. “Look, Fundy, I just want what’s best for you! It’s a win for both of us, y’know? You learn how to control your shitty magic, and then you teach my brother how to control his shitty magic!”“You want what's best for me? That’s such bullshit. We just met!” Fundy says with a scoff. “What’s wrong with this teacher? There’s definitely a catch. This isn’t my first time on the “magic with a twist” rodeo. There’s always a catch.”---Fundy is completely aware that his magic is as controlled as a train gone off the tracks. Finding a teacher is hard, though, okay? It's not his fault.
Relationships: Eret & Floris | Fundy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 155





	from my heart and from my hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catoukin (Visionairz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visionairz/gifts).



> this was for a fic trade w/ Catoukin/@stabbyinnit on Tumblr!
> 
> song title is from Weird Science by Oingo Boingo, despite the fact this fic includes no real science at all

This new village is certainly interesting, if Fundy were putting it lightly.

He’s currently sitting on the small porch of his still unfamiliar house, eating dinner and watching the chaos reign in the central square. The two neighbor children are wrestling with more ferocity than some full-grown warriors Fundy had seen before.

After listening to them yell for the past several hours, he thinks he has deduced the argument: One of them, the smaller, brunette one, has very recently come to realize his affinity for magic, though they aren’t sure what kind yet. The other, the tall, angry, blonde one, has not yet come into any magical affinity, and is extremely unhappy at this current disparity. There have been no winners. There won’t be any in the future, either, at least not until the other one figures out his own magical connection, because he doesn’t seem like the quitting type.

As a magic user himself, Fundy considers stepping in. 

Well.

Maybe saying a magic user is putting it lightly. Fundy is aware he has magic, yes. But he doesn’t use it, per say, it more just happens, destroying everything he’s ever loved. He has no more control over his own magic than the neighbor child does. 

He is forced to recognize this reality when, as he’s lifting a bite of his dinner to his mouth, he feels a tingle run through his fingertips, and he proceeds to bite down on a mouthful of now solid metal. He sputters, dropping the fork and holding his jaw as he feels a toothache forming, swears flowing out of his mouth like a dam was broken.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” He mutters like a mantra, glaring down at the fork on the ground, a piece of gold with a small tooth-shaped dent in it lying next to it. “Stupid fucking bullshit magic. I hate it here.”

As he’s glaring down at the traitorous metal, he sees a shadow approaching out of the corner of his eye, and he looks up to see another one of his neighbors. The older brother of the argumentative ones, he thinks. 

“You okay?” he asks, staring with great interest when Fundy goes to pick up the fork from the ground and the entire utensil transmutes into water, splashing back down onto Fundy’s shoes. He laughs. “Did you mean to do that?”

Fundy thinks he briefly sees red. “No, I didn’t fucking mean to do that!” He snaps, wiping his now-soaked hands off on his pant legs. He stares the newcomer in the eye. “Do you need something from me?”

“Well, first of all,” the guy starts, taking a seat next to him on the porch like he’s the one who owns the place, “I’m Wilbur, thank you so much for asking.” 

Fundy huffs. “‘m Fundy.”

“Great! Nice to meet you, Fundy!” Wilbur says with a grin so wide Fundy is honestly starting to hate it. “It seems like you’re struggling with some magic, yes?”

“Haven’t we already established this?” Fundy fully processes what Wilbur said. “Also, fuck you.”

Wilbur laughs. Fundy fumes more. “I suppose we have.”

“What the fuck do you want?”

Wilbur is unphased. “I need someone to teach Tubbo magic before he destroys the goddamn house. You can do magic. Simple.”

“I just turned a fucking fork into a goddamn puddle, why do you think I’m the best person to help you?”

“Well, obviously, you’re not,” Wilbur starts, waving Fundy away when he opens his mouth to protest, “But I have an idea of how to get you there.”

Fundy stills. This is the kind of information he’s been looking for. Shame it has to come from some idiot. “Some kind of teacher, you mean?”

“I mean, sure, you could call them that.” Wilbur says, suddenly avoiding Fundy’s eyes.

“Why don’t you go ask them yourself, then? Why do I have to play the middleman?”

Wilbur leans forward conspiratorially. “Look, Fundy, I just want what’s best for you! It’s a win for both of us, y’know? You learn how to control your shitty magic, and then you teach my brother how to control his shitty magic!”

“You want what's best for me? That’s such bullshit. We just met!” Fundy says with a scoff. “What’s wrong with this teacher? There’s definitely a catch. This isn’t my first time on the “magic with a twist” rodeo. There’s always a catch.”

Wilbur visibly deflates. “Ugh, fine.” He looks dramatically over his shoulder before turning back. “They’re just fucking creepy. Give me the total creeps. They barely talk to the rest of us and it’s weird!” 

Fundy groans. “That’s it? They’re weird? How horrific.” He says, not sounding very horrified at all. . He stands up and attempts a few swipes at the water still soaking his pants, to no avail. “Show me the way, Wilbur!” He says with a mock bow.

“You don’t have to be an asshole about it,” Wilbur grumbles, standing up anyways, making sure Fundy is following him before making his way towards the opposite end of the village.

“I don’t have to be an asshole about anything. I simply want to.”

“I think you’re going to be a bad influence on Tubbo.”

“I think that you should have found someone else if you wanted a good influence.”

\------

The tower that is apparently their destination is so cliche-looking that Fundy is starting to think Wilbur is playing a prank on him. It’s tall, crumbling, covered in vines, and made entirely out of dark wood and even darker stone. The few windows that are built in are all boarded up, except for the one near the very top, and the door has so many locks on it it’s comical. It’s completely ridiculous.

He expresses this to Wilbur. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

Wilbur snorts. “I am.” He stops walking around twenty feet away from the front door. Fundy follows suit, but Wilbur motions for him to continue, refusing to step any closer.

“Wow.” Fundy says, “You’re insane.” He pauses. “And a loser.”

Wilbur doesn’t reply to that. “Have fun!” He chirps before promptly turning around and making his way back into the heart of the village. The distant yelling of his brothers has stopped. Fundy doesn’t think that’s a good thing, but he has better things to do than investigate.

He’s left alone staring at the warped wooden door in front of him. It looks like it’s going to give him splinters, but there’s no knocker, so he gives it a try. He waits.

And waits.

He knocks again. Nothing happens, and he’s about to knock for a third time, when he hears a click come from the other side of the door, and he sees one of the several locks jolt on his side of the door. Another click, another lock, over and over until the door is creaking open, and he sees a single glowing eye peer out at him from the gap.

“Hello?” Fundy offers. No response. “I was told you could help teach me magic.” Still nothing. “Wilbur sent me?” Fundy tries.

The pale eye narrows. “That fucker,” A deep voice says from the other side of the door, yet that seemed to work, because the door is pulled open the rest of the way. 

Based on Wilbur’s vague description and overall aura of fear, Fundy was expecting some kind of lich horror, or something equally strange. Something worth being afraid of. Instead, standing in front of him, is a relatively normal looking person. They’re tall, taller than Fundy, at least, with dark curly hair and pale skin, the rest of their body obscured in a dark, fluffy looking cloak. The only thing unusual about them is their eyes, which are a pale, bright white, pupil-less and glowing. Making eye contact this long is starting to give Fundy a headache.

Fundy guesses he might have been analyzing this new person for a slightly unusual length of time because they speak again. “Are you actually magically inclined, or is Wilbur trying to mess with me again?” Their eyes narrow in consideration. “Are you another brother?”

“No?” Fundy says, before considering the first question. “I wish I weren’t magically inclined.” Fundy continues, honestly.

The stranger laughs. “Right answer.” They hold out a hand, arm reaching out from under their cloak. An inky blank tint runs from their fingertips down their forearm, running along where their veins should be. Fundy takes their hand anyways. “I’m Eret,” they say, giving a single shake.

“Fundy,” Fundy answers, before both of them let go, and then he’s following Eret further into the tower. The inside is a lot cozier than the outside, with bookshelves and workbenches covered in books and trinkets lining the walls, and a heavily-cushioned set of seats circled around a table in the center. A fire flickers steadily in a hearth near the back of the room. A cat is sprawled out lazily in front of it. It blinks at Fundy with three glowing pale eyes, and he’s instantly fascinated.

The two of them settle on chairs in the center of the room, and Eret rests their chin in their hands and looks at Fundy expectantly. “Tell me about your problems, Fundy.”

Fundy snorts. “What are you, my psychiatrist?” Eret smiles, but doesn’t answer. Fundy looks around the room thoughtfully. “Do you have any invaluable objects? A trinket you don’t particularly care for?”

“I’m sure I’ve got something,” Eret says, before standing up to look at the nearest bookshelf. They grab a little wooden carving of some unidentifiable animal and hand it to Fundy, who holds it gingerly in his hands.

Fundy proceeds to wait, doing nothing but holding it cupped carefully in his hands, and sure enough, after a few seconds, it suddenly transmutes. This time it’s grains of sand, which spill through his fingers and onto the table. Eret squints.

“You didn’t mean to do that intentionally, did you?”

“No I did not.”

“Fascinating.” They lean forward and smooth the pile of sand out on the table as if to confirm its real. “Transmutation is difficult stuff.”

Fundy feels himself preen, knowing that he’s capable of doing complicated magic, ignoring the fact that he can’t control it. “Can you help me?”

Eret hums thoughtfully. “Are you willing to listen? Are you willing to put time into focusing on your work? Mastering your magic isn’t easy, you know.”

Their tone is light, yet Fundy’s eyes narrow anyways, always prone to suspicion. “Are you implying something?” As per usual, he can’t bring himself to stop. “What magic can you even do anyways? How do I know you’re going to be able to teach me shit at all?”

Eret’s eyes narrow in return. “I think you should come back tomorrow.” They say simply.

Fundy leans forward, staring Eret down despite the growing pain their eyes cause in his temples. “What the fuck does that mean?” His volume is rising with each word. “You don’t even know me yet, how dare y-” Fundy is cut off by the sudden feeling of what seems like the room getting several degrees warmer, as if he had been wrapped snugly in a blanket. He feels himself look away and lean back involuntarily. He feels the anger flow out of him, helpless to stop it. It’s calming and terrifying at the same time.

Eret stands up. “It means that if you can’t muster the patience to answer a few basic questions, you obviously aren’t ready to master one of the hardest schools of magic.” Fundy follows them towards the door, once again completely in control of himself. “I know it makes me sound pretentious, but I really need to know you can take this seriously.” Eret looks at him sympathetically. “I know it’s hard. Believe me.” They pause. “It seems like you’ve had a long day, so how about you go home and calm down, and we can meet again tomorrow morning?”

Fundy nods. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I- I’ve just dealt with so much magic-related shit these past few months.”

Eret snorts. “Tell me about it.” They don’t elaborate. Fundy doesn’t think it would be wise to push it. He watches them meticulously undo each lock on the door before opening it and gesturing Fundy through.

The air outside is cool when Fundy steps down from the door, the sun almost completely hidden behind the treeline. “Nice meeting you!” He calls behind him.

“Nice meeting you!” Eret’s voice echoes seconds before the door falls shut completely.

As Fundy begins the walk home, he’s immediately lost in thought. Him calming down was definitely unnatural, he’s barely ever calm in the first place. He knows he’s going back tomorrow, knows he has to, if he wants to get his magic under control, but he’s now a little uneasy. He’s not sure entirely what made him settle, but he knows it was Eret’s doing. His knowledge of magic isn’t strong enough to give him a solid idea of the difficulty of that kind of ability, but he has a feeling it’s not for beginners.

But Eret seemed nice enough, right? He stops entertaining the rabbit hole his thoughts were spiralling down.

The rest of the walk back home doesn’t take long, and Fundy is bounding up the rickety steps of his porch when someone peeks out of the front door of the neighboring house.

“I told you they were creepy, right?” Wilbur says expectantly.

“I think you’re extremely stupid.” Fundy answers. “They were plenty nice.”

“Finally!” A voice inside Wilbur’s house calls out, “Someone else with reason.”

Rage flashes within Wilbur’s eyes, and he whips around, storming back inside with a shout of, “Shut up, Tubbo!”, followed shortly by the sound of a scuffle starting.

Fundy doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s starting to like it here. He feels a frown tug at the corners of his mouth.

That didn’t go well the last time. With the last village. The last set of quirky neighbors.

He buries the thought and heads inside.

\------

The next morning, Fundy is standing in his kitchen, carefully focusing on cooking his breakfast without ruining it, when he sees someone walk past his window. He looks too late, and so he turns back around right when they go past again. And again. He takes the pan off the fire and heads to the front door.

On the other side of the door is a very worried looking Eret, who immediately stops pacing and whips around to face him.

“Fundy!” They exclaim, rushing over to him. “Are you okay?”

“Wh- What?” Fundy says, tilting his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, good!” Eret says, looking a little relieved. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Eret, you’re kinda weirding me out here.”

Eret’s brows furrow. “What do you mean ‘for what’? I used my magic on you without your approval. That was a dick move, I’m so sorry.”

“Eret, bud, it looks like you’re about to cry.” Fundy puts a hand on their shoulder. “It’s okay, I promise.” He gives them an attempt at a reassuring smile.

“It’s not!” Eret is starting to look miserable. “I’m sorry.” They say again. “I don-”

Fundy hasn’t given anyone a hug in a long time, yet here he is, Eret suddenly wrapped up in his arms. They’re quick to return it. “Is this okay?” Fundy asks.

“Yeah,” Eret says, muffled, into his shoulder. “I really am s-”

“Please stop apologizing, Eret.” Fundy says, softly, giving them a few pats on the back. “You would know if I were angry.”

Eret laughs lightly before giving Fundy a little squeeze and pulling away. They look a lot calmer. “Thanks, Fundy.”

Fundy smiles, a completely real one this time. “Of course.” He looks over their shoulder near the tower. “Can I come back, now?”

“Hmm… No.” Eret says, but they’re smiling, and once they start heading back, they’re looking over their shoulder to make sure Fundy’s following.

\------

“So what kind of magic do you have, anyways?” Fundy asks, currently laying on the floor in front of the fireplace, playing with Eret’s cat.

Eret peeks up from the book they had been reading. The book had been a few inches away from their face, and all the books in the tower are written in the largest font Fundy has ever seen printed, so Fundy thinks it’s safe to say their vision isn’t the best. “Did I not tell you?”

“Nope.”

“Huh,” they say, setting the book on the table next to them and climbing down from the chair onto the floor next to Fundy. “So…” they hum in thought. “I’m a warlock.”

“Woah!” Fundy chirps, “I’ve never met a warlock before.”

“Are you okay with that?”

Fundy scoffs, rolling over on the floor a little so he can look Eret in the eyes. “Eret, I don’t know who hurt you, and I’m sorry, but I promise you can trust me. Okay?”

Eret gives him a small smile. “Okay.” They pause to process for a few minutes, and Fundy gives them the time. “So, I’m a warlock.” They start again.

“Mhm.”

“And my patron is Oberon-”

“Woah!” Fundy exclaims again, rolling over fully and sitting up. “Like, the fairy king Oberon?”

“The one and the same.” Eret says with a snicker. “I used to have a different patron, actually, but… uh-” They stare at the floor. “I have Oberon now.”

“Sure thing. What kinda magic does Oberon give ya?”

“Well, Oberon doesn’t give me my magic, really. I could still do magic without him. He just… amplifies it.”

“Ah, okay.” Fundy says with a nod. “So, like, If I found a patron, I could get the same thing?”

“Do you really want that? Amplified magic?” Eret says, earning a swat on the shoulder. “Joking! Joking. Yes, you could.”

Fundy snorts. “Yeah, I don’t want that.” He motions for Eret to continue.

“So my natural-born magic is illusion and enchantment based.” They say, before grabbing the book off of the table and holding it up performatively. “So I could do this,” They wave a hand, and their eyes flash, and suddenly a small, similarly sized piece of wood is resting in their hand. They give it a tap, and the air around it seems to shimmer and wave before the image of the wood melts away, leaving the original book behind.

“Holy shit.” Fundy whispers as Eret beams.

“Or this,” They say, and they give the book a little shake before letting go, and it simply hovers in the spot they had been holding it for a few seconds before falling to the ground with a soft thud. “That kind of enchantment is hard.”

“That kind? Are there other kinds?”

“A couple, y’know… The emotions?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

The two of them sit in silence for a second before Fundy breaks it. “So why are your eyes glowy then? We both can do magic, so why don’t mine glow?”

Eret seems thankful for the change in subject. “That’s all Oberon. Most patrons need something in exchange for the power boost, and so Oberon gets most of my vision. Not sure why he needs it, but there’s apparently some kind of magic in the visual, so he’s welcome to have it.” They wave a hand in front of their face. “My eyes kinda suck though.”

“Do you ever want it back?”

“Not anymore. I couldn’t get it back if I wanted, anyways. The deal was permanent.” They take a deep breath. “Most patrons want much worse. I’m thankful.”

“Makes sense, I suppose.” Fundy says. “I think your magic is very cool, Eret.”

“Thanks, Fundy.” Eret replies, and Fundy can hear the smile in their voice, even if he can’t see it.

\------

“How’s it going, Fundy?” A familiar voice says from right behind him, and he jumps from where he had been hanging up some clothes to dry on his porch railing, definitely not letting out a little screech.

“You can fuck all the way off, Wilbur!” Fundy says with a small shake still in his voice, turning around to half-heartedly shove the other man away. Wilbur just laughs.

“How’s it going?” He asks again.

“How’s what going?”

Wilbur frowns. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, I do.” Fundy flashes a smug smile. “I just wanted to make you upset.”

“I hate you.”

“You’re the one who came over here, Wilbur!” Fundy says while giving an overdramatic shrug as he hops up onto the porch railing. “It’s going well.”

“I’m surprised.”

“I seriously don’t understand the problem you all have with Eret. They’re perfectly nice, thank you very much.”

“We’ve just… heard things.”

“That’s a terrible basis for any kind of accusation. Tubbo is the only one of you with common sense.”

“Thank you!” Tubbo’s voice calls from the open window of his house.

“Quit spying on me!” Wilbur shouts.

“No!” Two voices call back.

Wilbur groans. “I am begging you to get this magic learning over with so you can deal with those two motherfuckers.”

“Why are they my problem?”

“You said yes.”

“Did I?”

“Let’s say you did.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Friendship with me?” Fundy gives him a look. “Friendship with… Tubbo?” Fundy tilts his head thoughtfully. “Friendship with Eret?”

Fundy sighs. “You got me there.”

“Aww!” Wilbur says with a smirk. “A friend! You are so welcome, Fundy!”

“I’ve never transmuted a living thing, Wilbur, but I swear you’ll be my first experiment.”

“And that’s my cue to leave!” Wilbur says immediately, hopping down off the railing. “Have fun today!”

“What are you, my mom?”

“You wish.” Wilbur says, shutting the door behind him.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Fundy calls with a wheeze on his way towards the tower. He doesn’t get an answer. He’s upset at how much he’s loving his life right now. That’s never lasted long before. 

He stares up at the familiar tower before him.

Maybe it will last this time around.

\-------

“So. Transmutation” Eret starts the moment Fundy walks inside. The door isn’t usually locked, these days.

“Transmutation.” Fundy echoes.

“What do you know about it?” Eret asks, sitting down in one of the living room chairs and gesturing for Fundy to sit in the other.

“I know that I fucking hate it.”

Eret laughs. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.” Fundy says before relenting. “I know it’s just just changing one thing into another.”

“Ok, good start,” Eret says before pulling out a book the size of Fundy’s head and flipping through the pages. They squint at the text in front of them. “It falls under the chaos division of magic.”

“What does that mean?”

“There are two magical divisions, lawful and chaotic. Lawful magic is summoned and controlled by the user from the Source. Chaotic magic is around us at all times and needs to be properly guided by the user, otherwise, it can really fuck shit up.” Eret looks up and gestures to Fundy vaguely. “That’s why your magic seems random. It’s always there, and you’re like a conduit, but you can’t control it, so it just… sparks out.”

“Why don’t you teach this as, like, a class? Make some money on the side?”

“Are you even listening?”

Fundy snorts. “I am. I am! Ok, so, chaotic magic, needs controlling, I’m a conduit… How exactly do I control it?”

“You just need focus and intent.”

“Wow. I know the secret to everything now. Thanks, Eret.” Fundy fakes standing up. “Guess I’ll be going!”

“Sit your ass down!” Eret says before barking out a laugh. “It’s not that hard, Fundy. I’ll teach you.”

Fundy lets out a dramatic sigh and flops back into the chair. “Fine.” Eret puts a small glass marble into his hand.

“Turn it into sand.”

“What?”

“Turn it into sand! You focus on the marble, and you focus on the flow of your magic, and you intend on making it sand.”

“The flow?”

“That feeling when you do magic that feels like you’re about to be struck by lightning. Static-y. That’s you being the conduit. Look for that feeling, it’s flowing around you always.”

Fundy gives a curt nod and stares at the marble in his hand like his life depends on it. He takes a deep breath. His fingers tingle. The marble in his hand splits in half, one half of it bursting in a puff of sand that gets thrown across the table, leaving a perfect half-sphere of glass in its place.

“Nice!” Eret exclaims. “Now the other half.”

The electric feeling comes quicker this time, and the rest of the marble is soon sand flowing through his fingers.

“Holy shit.” Fundy says, breathless. “Holy shit! I did it, Eret!” He hops up before tackling Eret in a hug, nearly knocking the chair over. “I did it!”

Eret laughs as they hug him back. “You’re getting sand all over my chair.”

“Admit you’re proud of me. Admit it!”

Fundy feels Eret take a deep breath before they let out a dramatic groan. “I’m proud of you, Fundy.”

They sit there comfortably, letting Fundy calm down from his outburst, before he leans back on his heels, the chair rocking back in place with them. “Can we do more?”

“Of course.” Eret says before lightly shoving Fundy off of him. “Sit back down.” Fundy jumps back into his chair and holds out a hand.

Eret grabs a small leather pouch off the table and pulls out a copper coin, and places it into Fundy’s hand. “Can you make it gold?”

Fundy freezes at the feeling of the cool metal. He stares blankly at the coin.

“...Fundy?”

The coin falls out of his hand. He makes no move to pick it up. “I- I can’t do that, Eret.”

“What’s wrong?” Eret asks, though they’re already leaning down to swoop up the coin and put it back into the pouch, which they place gently out of sight under the table.

“Did I ever tell you why I moved here, Eret?” Fundy asks instead, eyes burning a hole in the table, where he knows the pouch is resting underneath.

“No, Fundy, you didn’t.” Eret responds carefully, getting up from their chair and sitting next to Fundy on the larger couch, resting one hand on his shoulder. “Take your time.” 

“It started off as just a little trick,” Fundy begins, “turning copper into gold. My friends thought it was funny, y’know? Get a little easy gold, snag some fancy clothes we wouldn’t be able to afford, that kinda thing. I wasn’t very good at it, but I could get gold roughly half of the times I tried, so it was worth it to us.” He pauses and takes in a deep, shaking breath. 

“The transmutation didn’t last forever. People started getting angry, watching the money flow down the drain. I didn’t think much of it, really. They were rich after all. They could take the loss.” He continues. Another deep breath. “My family wasn’t rich enough, though. Not rich enough to handle it when we checked our earnings for the week and found them all copper.”

“Fundy…”

“I was so fucking angry, Eret. My own friends gave us those coins. My own friends screwed me over.” He lets out a joyless laugh. “I bet they regretted that when the whole town turned to pure lava. Every brick, every plank, every nail, melted in an instant.” He’s nearing hysteria. “Every person.”

Eret jolts a little in surprise but keeps their hand on his shoulder. “That was you?”

“The very same.” He suddenly leans forward to look Eret in the eyes. “Not intentionally, of course! Felt like getting struck by fucking lightning. By the time I felt it, it was far, far too late. Too late to reel it back. Too late to stop.”

For the first time since they met, both of them seem at a loss for words. Eret leans their head on Fundy’s shoulder.

“I wish I didn’t do it intentionally.” they mumble a few minutes later.

“Do what intentionally?” Fundy prompts softly.

“Hurt people.” Eret sniffs. “My old patron… they needed more than just my eyesight. More than just me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Fundy sees a tear roll down Eret’s face. “It was so easy-” A heaving breath. “It was so easy to con people into their deaths. A minor illusion here. A little emotional enchantment there.

I did it once, and I hated it. But I was helpless to stop it, I was like some kind of pawn.” They bury their face in their hands. “I’m a monster.”

“How’d you get out of it, then?” Fundy asks, starting to rub small circles into their shoulder with his thumb. 

“Threatened to chop my own hands off,” Eret says, muffled, before leaning up and holding them out. “Well, I did, actually.” The black, inky tint of their hands is starting to make more sense to Fundy. “They grew back after I severed the connection. I think it was Oberon.” They give their hands a little shake. “I can’t feel them, though. I’m not sure they’re really mine.”

“Eret, I-”

“You can go if you’d like,” Eret says, finally realizing their position and reeling back. “I’d understand.”

“You really think I’d watch you spill your heart out like that and leave?” Fundy says indignantly. “It’s obvious you regret it. You didn’t kick me out a few minutes ago!” 

Eret settles slightly, aggressively wiping the tears off of their cheeks. “Y-yeah.” They look at Fundy with the most gratitude he’s ever seen. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Is all Fundy says, before pulling Eret back into a hug. They fall asleep leaned against each other on the couch, worn out from crying.

\------

The sound of knocking startles Fundy awake and back into the world of the living, and he’s quickly sitting up, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. 

Eret is curled up on the couch next to him, their cat perched on their thighs. They’re still pretty deep in sleep, it seems, and Fundy moves the blanket from the other arm of the couch to cover them up neatly before gently standing up and making his way towards the door.

He carefully opens each lock before peeking one eye out, getting a quick glance before pulling the door the rest of the way open, slipping outside, and shutting it softly behind him.

“What?” He snaps, looking down from the step at the three boys in front of him.

“What do you mean, ‘What’?” Wilbur exclaims. “We were worried about you!”

“Yeah!” Tommy chirps at the same time Tubbo says, “We were?” Tommy elbows him in the shoulder.

“Why in the fuck were you worried about me?” Fundy says. It’s too early for this.

“You didn’t come home,” Tubbo says. Tommy nods sagely. “You’ve never not come home before.”

Fundy groans lightheartedly. “I’m an adult! Why do you care?”

Wilbur looks at him like he thinks he’s stupid. Fundy mirrors that expression back at Wilbur. “...Eret?” Wilbur stage whispers.

“Not this again!” Fundy says, “Eret is completely fucking fine.” He lowers his voice back to his normal volume. “They’re asleep right now, by the way. So be quiet.” He says, pointedly looking at Tommy. 

“Did you stay the night?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, we got caught up with our lesson.” Fundy answers, choosing to gloss over the whole therapy session. He smiles a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”

The three boys smile in return. “Of course!” Wilbur says, “you’re like an honorary brother.”

“Thanks,” Fundy starts as he turns to open the door back up, “But I don’t want to be caught in that nonsense.” He sees Tommy open his mouth and he dramatically shushes him. “Eret’s sleeping!” He hisses. He shuts the door behind him to smother the sound of Tommy’s indignant rambling, and looks up to see a very groggy Eret in front of him.

“Good morning?” They offer, moving a hand to start petting the cat cradled in their other arm.

“Good morning!” 

Eret yawns, setting the cat down before moving over to the small kitchenette. “Who was that?”

“The village idiots.”

They both laugh a little at that as Eret busies themselves with cooking breakfast and Fundy sits down at the table. He pours himself a glass of water and stares at it, searching for the spark, until he sees a cloud of orange appear within the center and overtake the liquid. He cautiously takes a sip.

“I made orange juice!” He exclaims.

“You have extremely powerful magic and you use it to make fucking orange juice?” Eret says with a snort.

“Why not?” Fundy says, before doing the same to another glass and sliding it towards Eret. They take a small sip.

“This is good!”

“You sound surprised. Why are you surprised?”

“I literally watched you turn something to sand on accident, why would I trust your mystery juice?”

“Fair.”

They finish cooking and after a short, peacefully quiet breakfast, they sit in the study, having some reading time for Fundy to learn more about the history of transmutation magic. Another knock on the door shocks them from their books.

Opening the door reveals Tubbo, alone this time, standing there with his hands cupped in front of him. He’s switching between looking at the mass within them in fascination and staring at Eret and Fundy hopefully. 

Within his hands is a small mouse, which is scampering around across his fingers. What’s unusual, however, is the fact that it’s neck is absolutely at an angle it shouldn’t be able to live with. Blood stains its white fur, and yet it still hurries around like nothing was strange with it whatsoever.

“Help?” Is all Tubbo says. The mouse in his hand falters and stops in his tracks. Tubbo’s eyes begin to glow softly as he lifts it closer to inspect it, and it stands back up and continues to run within his cupped hands.

Eret pushes open the door a little wider. “I think I have some books on necromancy.” They turn around, looking over their shoulder. “Come in, Tubbo!”

Tubbo hops up the steps into the tower. Fundy leans over to him. “We can be students together!” He says, only partially joking.

“Oh, great.” Tubbo says. “I’m smarter than you.”

“Hey!” Fundy yelps as Eret begins cackling from in front of them.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Eret deadpans, a smile betraying their tone, as all three of them sit down in the living room to lean over a gigantic book labeled “The Basics of Necromancy”.

“So,” Eret starts, “There are two divisions of magic-”

**Author's Note:**

> i've been waiting to post this for a while and i had a lot of fun w/ it!
> 
> i also have a bigger universe planned out w/ some others so i may continue it :D


End file.
